


He was determined to discover the underlying logic behind the universe. Which was going to be hard, because there wasn’t one.

by slightlybatty



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2018-01-30
Packaged: 2018-08-12 16:10:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7940839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slightlybatty/pseuds/slightlybatty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>feel free to use the blurbs if youre inspired<br/>just drop a comment, add some credit, the works</p><p>title quote from terry pratchett, mort</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the index.

This is the index.

Consider these separate stories in their own right, universes not connected unless otherwise stated.

 

[Chapter 1](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7940839/chapters/23624862) \- This is the index.

[Chapter 2](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7940839/chapters/18152521) - Harry meets Amelia Bones, circa 1988.

[Chapter 3](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7940839/chapters/21550832) - Harry meets Padfoot, and later, Sirius. January, 1994.

[Chapter 4](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7940839/chapters/23624844) \- Peter is asked to be Secret Keeper. 1981.

[Chapter 5](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7940839/chapters/30857562) - Minerva goes to collect Harry. Summer, 1991. Fic preview in end notes.

[Chapter 6](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7940839/chapters/31022874) - Rubeus Hagrid is escorted to Azkaban Prison, circa Dec/Jan 1992/1993.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry meets Amelia Bones, circa 1988.

Harry was at a tiny diner, sitting at a booth. Waiting for Aunt Petunia. He'd been sitting for absolutely ages, and she still hadn't returned! The lady at the counter had felt bad for him, and he got a glass of water. For free! He tried to drink slowly, so he could save it, but it had already been filled three times already. Harry swung his legs idly, wondering if he was going to stay overnight. He stayed overnight at a gas station, once. They were very nice, and had given him some free crisps.

A woman came up to him, with rusty-grey hair and cheerful blue eyes. Harry thought she looked very friendly, much friendlier than Aunt Petunia, but he wasn't supposed to talk to strangers.

"What's your name, love?" she asked, as she sat down across from him. "Mine's Amelia."

Her eyes twinkled and she smiled at him, and he supposed she wasn't that strange, at least not stranger than he.

"I'm Harry," said Harry, "And I'm waiting for my aunt to come back."

She looked so sad when he said that, so he dropped his eyes to his thrice-empty drinking glass. He twirled the straw around, making the ice clink together. He was about to fish one out to eat it, as he was still quite hungry (after eating all the other ice) and even ice is better than nothing, when she spoke again.

"I'm sorry, Harry. What's your aunt's name?" asked Amelia.

"Petunia Dursley," said Harry. He wondered why she was sorry.

"Is Dursley your last name, too?" asked Amelia.

Harry made a face. He would rather _die_ than be a Dursley! He said as much, and Amelia chuckled.

"I'm Harry Potter," he continued, startled when she gaped at him.

"...is that okay?" Harry asked timidly. Amelia was very nice, and he didn't want her to go away. His talking seemed to startle her back, and she apologized.

"I'm Amelia Bones," she said, looking very determined. The word Harry would choose would definitely be stormy, what with her hair and her eyes and her navy clothes. She stood up, and offered Harry her hand. "Is it okay if I help you find your aunt?"

Aunt Petunia said to stay here, but who needed her, anyways? She was just mean, and Harry liked Amelia _way_ better. She had a cooler name, too. Who wants their aunt to be a Dursley?

Harry smiled and took her hand. They walked out of the diner together, and Harry waved at the lady at the counter cheerily.

"I've got a niece about your age, Harry. Her name is Susan," said Amelia, as she took him to the train station. They got tickets, and boarded a train.

"Is Susan nice?" asked Harry, as the train started moving. "Also, what's a niece?"

Amelia smiled at him some more, and ruffled his hair. "Susan is very nice, I'd like to think. Since she's my niece, I'm her aunt. You're your Aunt Petunia's nephew, so she's your aunt."

"Oh," said Harry. He thought for a few minutes. "Can you be my aunt, too? I don't like Aunt Petunia much. She's mean."

Amelia was quiet, like Harry had been. "I'll see what I can do, love," she said, and Harry thought it was strange how soft her voice was.

"Can I call you Aunt Amelia? Until you can be my aunt?" Harry asked, looking eagerly at Amelia.

She smiled at him, and her eyes shined. "Of course, love." She held out her arm, and Harry didn't know what to do until she gently tugged him to her side, engulfing him in a warm hug. Harry grinned up at her, _his Aunt Amelia_! He hugged her, and they stayed like that for the rest of the train ride.

Harry blinked groggily, rubbing at his eyes. Someone was gently rubbing his shoulder.

"Wake up, love," Aunt Amelia was saying, "We're here."

"Where's here?"

"London."

"What're we seeing in London?" Harry asked.

Aunt Amelia said nothing, but when he looked at her, she was smiling.

"It's a surprise," she whispered, "So I can't tell you."

"Okay," Harry whispered back, satisfied. He trusted Aunt Amelia.

Harry held his hand up for Aunt Amelia to take, and together they walked to a park, where it looked like no one had been in forever. The grass was all long, especially around the posts holding up the swings and the slides. If Aunt Petunia saw this park, Harry knew she'd have the biggest fit imaginable! She'd probably turn all sorts of colors like Uncle Vernon. Harry giggled at the thought of a purple Aunt Petunia.

Now was not the time to think about Aunt Petunia, or Uncle Vernon! Harry reprimanded himself, as he should've been paying attention to Aunt Amelia. He looked at her to apologise, but she giggled herself. Do grown ups giggle? Harry pondered over that for a moment, deciding grown ups probably don't giggle, unless they were really cool like Aunt Amelia.

Aunt Amelia had led him over to one of the park's benches. It was wooden, with wrought iron legs, and badly water damaged. Harry sat down beside her anyways. Anything good enough for Aunt Amelia was good enough for him, he decided.

"Harry," Aunt Amelia said, smiling merrily, "Has anything happened around you that you can't explain? Especially when you were mad, or confused, or scared?"

Harry stared at Aunt Amelia for a long time. "How did you know?" he finally asked, very quietly. He was scared Aunt Amelia would decide he was too freakish, and she couldn't be his aunt anymore.

Aunt Amelia seemed to realise that he wasn't very happy at all. She murmured something soft, wrapping him in a very nice hug.

"It's okay, love. Do you want to hear a story?"

He nodded, letting himself be pulled onto Aunt Amelia's lap. He smiled weakly at her. At least she wasn't too disgusted with him?

"It was my seventh birthday," began Aunt Amelia, "I had gotten a brand new doll, and I was so happy." Aunt Amelia smiled, then sighed. "Sadly, it wasn't to last.

"I had just gotten her out of her box, all new and pretty, when my brother Daniel decided he wanted to play, too. Edgar - he was my other brother, I had two, you see - Edgar tried to stop him, but Daniel was determined.

"He took my doll right out of my hands, and I was so surprised, I didn't do anything for a few moments. But Harry, _nothing_ escapes Amelia Bones - I'm head of my department for a reason."

Aunt Amelia paused, bemused. Harry made note to ask her about departments later.

"I was so mad at him, Harry! I started yelling, and suddenly, Danny's hair turned purple."

Harry laughed loudly; he couldn't help it! Harry assumed Daniel had red hair, like Aunt Amelia, and Daniel having purple hair, just like that? It must have been utterly hilarious.

Aunt Amelia was laughing with him, and Harry was happy.

"My teacher's hair turned blue, once," he said, and Aunt Amelia burst out laughing again. Harry grinned.

"I bet that was a sight, love," Aunt Amelia said, kissing his forehead. Harry's face flushed, and he didn't know if he could grin any wider.

"Do you know why, Harry? Why you turned your teacher's hair blue, and why I turned Danny's hair purple?" asked Aunt Amelia, her eyes shining brighter than before.

Harry shrugged. "Because they deserved it?"

Aunt Amelia chuckled. "Well, that, too. But, we were able to dish it up because we're _magical_ , Harry, you and I, along with thousands of others in Britain alone."

Harry's mouth dropped open in surprise. Magic? Aunt Petunia says - well, who cares what Aunt Petunia says? He has Aunt Amelia now!

"Watch this," Aunt Amelia said, a stick - wand - suddenly in her hands. She pointed it at the ground, and a beetle came soaring up. She flicked the wand, and Harry watched the beetle change. It flattened out and changed from black to blue.

"Take it, love," said Aunt Amelia.

Tentatively, Harry took it, then gasped - this was no beetle! He was holding the prettiest blue button he had ever seen! Aunt Amelia waved her wand, and the button popped up, spindly legs and antennae shooting out. The fat beetle bumbled about before Harry gently pushed it off into a thick patch of grass.

"I can do that?" Harry asked, looking at Aunt Amelia in awe.

Aunt Amelia smiled. "When you turn eleven, you can go to Hogwarts; it's a magic school, where you're able to learn all sorts of things."

Harry grinned. Neat!

"Now," said Aunt Amelia, gently pushing him off her lap, "Next stop is the Ministry of Magic."

"A ministry? All for magic?" asked Harry.

Aunt Amelia ruffled his hair. "They can't do magic things in the non magic ministry, Harry. Everyone would know, and it wouldn't be such a secret anymore, hmm?"

She held out her hand for him to take, and they walked off. Aunt Amelia was so smart!

They walked for a while, with Aunt Amelia telling him about lots of cool magic things, like animal people and color charms, until they got to a red telephone box. He followed Aunt Amelia in, but he was still confused.

"Watch this, Harry," said Aunt Amelia, picking up the phone and winking at him. She dialed something, and waited.

"Welcome to the visitor's entrance to the Ministry of Magic," said the phone in a loud voice, startling Harry. "Please state your name and business."

Harry looked at Aunt Amelia questioningly. Aunt Amelia cleared her throat.

"Director Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. I'm here to see the Minister."

Harry heard a clinking noise, and something fell into the coin return.

"Welcome to the Ministry, Director Bones," said the phone.

Aunt Amelia grabbed the thing from the return. She nudged him, and Harry stared at her. She gestured to the phone.

"I'm, um, Harry Potter," said Harry, "I'm just visiting?"

Another clink, and Harry collected the something. It was a little badge, with his name on it. Under his name was the word visitor.

"Welcome to the Ministry, Mr Potter," said the phone.

"Thank you?" said Harry.

"Very good, love," said Aunt Amelia.

"Why aren't there more instructions?" asked Harry.

"We here at the Ministry of Magic aim to improve," said the phone, startling Harry again. He had assumed it was done talking. "Consider your considerations considered, Mr Potter. Have a nice day."

Harry blushed, fumbling with his badge. Aunt Amelia smiled at him, gently helping him pin it to his grubby shirt. Aunt Amelia held out her hand, and he took it gratefully.

The telephone box shuddered, then they started going down, like in a lift. Harry could hear a lot of people, and he was very glad Aunt Amelia was with him.

"Welcome to Level 8, the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic. Enjoy your stay," said the lift.

"Ready, Harry?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry meets Padfoot, and later, Sirius. January, 1994.

Harry took a deep breath. The moon hung still and silent in the night sky, peeking over the tops of the trees. It was nearly full, and gave him ample light to see the knot at the base of the willow tree.

He fingered the rock he had picked up along the way. It was of good weight, and he hoped his plan was solid. Between one spasm and the next, Harry lobbed the stone at the knot. It flew straight and true, stopping the willow's erratic movements.

Harry rushed towards the passage, trying to make the precious moments of stillness last as long as possible. Just as he ducked into the tunnel, the willow exploded in movement, and he breathed a sigh of relief. He hurried to the shack, into the sad caricature of a living room.

Harry sat down on one of the worn couches with a huff, allowing himself some moments of relative peace, away from reckless plants and friends. It was only just after the winter holidays, and he'd finally gotten the transformation down. He had taken to reading about it in the shack, after Lupin said it definitely wasn't haunted. Not that Harry thought it was, of course. It was just nice to have an adult confirm, is all.

Just, now something felt off about the shack. Gooseflesh prickled over his arms, and Harry tensed with new uneasiness.

Maybe it was the transformation? Yes, that had to be it. After he transformed back, his senses were very much improved, though they were at their peak when he was fully transformed. He could see better in the dark, hear more than ever, and his sense of smell went farther than he was aware it could go. When he first accomplished it in his dormitory, he was overwhelmed by the stench of sweat and dry dirt that radiated from the whole room; it was barely bearable when he had transformed back, and he had gone straight to the library to look up freshening charms.

Harry carefully tucked his invisibility cloak into one of his more secure pockets, sliding off the couch and kneeling into the center of the floor. He still hadn’t mastered changing very quick or very cool, but he was getting better. About fifteen seconds later, he had fully transformed, and the problem with the shack became glaringly obvious.

Wolf.

Harry’s legs locked into place, his ears swiveling around like radars. The scent was a bit old, but still very strong, and if he could smell the wolf, the wolf could smell him. It could smell him on the couch, and in the rooms of the shack where he explored, and even if it wasn’t here right now, Harry knew it could be back at anytime, and he was basically a sitting duck.

Harry didn’t have to think very hard about his next action. He was already barreling down the tunnel, his antlers scraping along the sides. He shot out of the tunnel like a train, having several near-misses with the willow’s branches. Snow had started to fall, and he left small, clustered pairs of footprints leading into the forest, away from the wolf.

Soon, his steps slowed. He wasn’t far into the woods, as he could still see a bit of the grounds from his vantage point, but he was far enough that no one could see him.

Turning around, Harry froze. There was a dog. Instinct told him to bob his head, to coax the dog into action, and he did. The dog took a faltering step, and Harry’s legs tensed, ready to bolt again. The only thing stopping him was the confusion radiating from the dog. It should’ve felt more like the basilisk did, Harry though; tear-kill-eat instead of wait-what-how.

_ Prongs?? _

Harry's ears flicked in surprise. Now, Harry didn’t know a lot of dogs, but he was pretty sure they didn’t speak, and this one did. In his mind. What. Harry sat in surprise.

Harry tried it himself, directing his thoughts towards the dog.  _ What's Prongs? How do dogs talk? Can I?? _

The dog looked very sad for a moment, then sighed. He (Harry could tell by the voice) walked over to Harry and laid down at his side.

_ Prongs was... no, Prongs is... he's one of my closest friends. Dogs can kind of talk, but they do that by forcing their thoughts on one another, like what we're doing here. _

Then the dog eyed him.  _ You're an animagus? Interspecies communication isn’t common, even with magical animals. _

Harry blinked.  _ Um, yes. Am I doing this right? _

The dog bared his teeth in a lazy smile.  _ You're doing perfect, kid. I'm one, too. This your first time? _

Harry blew air out of his nose in a huff.  _ Not in changing, but yeah, I haven't gone into the forest this way before. _

The dog eyed him again.  _ Fifth year? _

Harry tossed his head.  _ Third. _

The dog's ears dropped in surprise, and maybe a bit of respect, Harry thought.  _ What's your name, kid? _

Harry flicked his ears nervously.  _ I'd rather not say. _

The dog looked a bit disappointed, but laid his head on his paws resignedly.  _ I'll think of a name for you, then. My friends and I, we had special names. Prongs, you and he share an animagus form, while Wormtail was a tan rat. I'm Padfoot, and our friend was Moony. _

Harry cocked an ear, confused.  _ Are they not your friends anymore? _

The dog tensed, then whimpered sadly. He let off a sorrowful howl.  _ Moony probably doesn't want to see me, he still... Wormtail was on the other... he... Prongs is... Prongs is... dead... _

Harry's ears drooped, and he bent his head down to comfort the dog - Padfoot. He rubbed his cheek against Padfoot's rough, scraggly fur, mindful of his antlers.  _ I'm sorry. I can see why you'd be surprised to see me, then. _

Padfoot sniffled, curling in on himself and trying to be as close to Harry as possible. Harry continued.

_ My parents were killed during the war - at the end of it, actually, they were sold out by - er, it doesn't matter. I went to live with muggles and I didn't know I was a wizard until Hagrid came and visited. _

Padfoot lifted his head, bumping it softly against Harry's shoulder.  _ Hagrid's still around, then? That's good to hear. Sounds rough, though, living with muggles. Hope they weren't too bad. _

Harry huffed, air whooshing out of his nose.  _ They're of the worst sort. My bedroom was the cupboard under the stairs until I went to Hogwarts, and they absolutely hate magic. _

Padfoot shook his head, baring his teeth a bit.  _ They sound like my parents. I was the only Gryffindor from a long line of Slytherins, and they hated me. I ran away in my sixth year to stay with Prongs and his family. _

Harry nudged Padfoot's ear sympathetically. _ I'm sorry they were like that. The way things are going, I'll probably do the same. My best mate's a Weasley. _

Padfoot perked up.  _ Last I heard, Molly had the first Weasley girl in generations. _

_ Yeah, Ginny. Er, Ginevra, but she prefers Ginny. Last year, someone was possessing her, and she almost died. I feel bad for her, you know? _

Padfoot made a noise Harry interpreted as sympathy with a wince.  _ Poor girl. _

They laid in silence for a while, watching the moon trek across the sky.

_ Where did you change first?  _ Padfoot asked suddenly.

_ Dormitories. I nearly passed out from the stench, though, and it was even worse because I’m on the house team. I never knew clothes could smell that bad.  _ Harry huffed a sort-of laughter.

Padfoot seemed faintly amused.  _ Exact same thing happened to us. We had to look up freshening charms immediately after, and to this day I swear our dorms were the cleanest in all of Hogwarts.  _

Then he stood, stretching with a deep bow.  _ You want to see where we hung out the most? It was sort of out home away from home away from home, if you will.  _

Harry huffed a laugh again. He had been wary at first, but Padfoot was starting to grow on him.  _ Let’s go.  _

Padfoot waited for Harry to climb to his feet, then took off with a  _ Catch me if you can! _ and Harry leapt after, eager for a bit of a game. For the most part, they kept pace with Harry pulling ahead occasionally. Padfoot had taken them around the lake, and Harry was a bit worried; they were getting very close to the willow. 

Padfoot then ran up to the knot in the willow, dodging branches with ease before pressing the knot on the trunk. He turned back towards Harry, wagging his tail.  _ In here! _

This close to the willow, Harry easily smelled the wolf, and he was on high alert; his legs locked, his tail up, and his ears spinning. Luckily, Padfoot seemed to notice his distress.

The willow had started moving again, but just as easily, Padfoot ducked between the branches to get to him.  _ Hey, you okay, kid? _

Harry spared him a small grunt.  _ Wolf. _

Padfoot seemed to deflate.  _ Oh. Yeah. That’s Moony. He probably still comes here to change, it’s okay. Hey, if you come inside, you can see my form, and my beautiful, handsome face! _

Harry relaxed with a huff of laughter, mostly due to Padfoot’s terrible attempt at humor.  _ Alright. _

Padfoot became excited again, racing over to press the knot, his tail thumped wildly, but Harry was still cautious. He hurried over to the willow and into the passage, because the willow waits for no one, even if he was a deer. Harry walked slowly behind Padfoot, closer and closer to the shack infused with the scent of the wolf.

They made it to the living room.  _ You’ve probably seen my picture before, kid, but please don’t be alarmed. I’ll explain. _

Padfoot looked at him with pleading eyes, and Harry tossed his head.  _ Don’t worry. You’ve probably seen my picture before, but please don’t freak out.  _

Padfoot looked confused, but then he was changing very quickly, as fast as McGonagall could. Harry sat, blinking at him, looking into the face of none other than Sirius Black, escaped convict and cause of his parent’s death. 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter is asked to be Secret Keeper. 1981.

Peter sat in the living room of James and Lily’s flat. Lily was on a squishy red couch, heavily pregnant. She smiled at him, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Peter smiled weakly at her, pushing back into his accompanying gold armchair. 

James returned from the kitchen, tea tray in hand. He set it gently on the short table between the furniture, handed Lily hers - jasmine - got his - two sugars, no cream - and gave Peter his cup - half cream, half tea, and a spoon of honey. Peter sipped his tea to have something to do. 

James sat down heavily beside Lily. He fiddled with his cup, then looked at her. They seemed to have a conversation with their eyes; James set down his cup on the tray. Lily sipped hers a little, smiled at James in thanks, then set her cup down as well. Peter followed suit nervously. 

His friends fidgeted in front of him. James held Lily’s hands gently. They looked at him; Lily’s eyes were soft, James looked unsure. 

“Peter,” James began, then stopped. Peter tried smiling reassuringly. James’ returning grin was more of a grimace. Lily picked up where James stopped. 

“You know that You-Know-Who wants Harry?” she asked him, one hand coming to rest protectively on her belly. Peter nodded.

“We’re going to be going under fidelius,” Lily continued. Peter had a guess about what was going to happen next, and he didn’t like it. 

There was a pause. The air in the room felt stagnant, as if the flat itself was holding its breath, waiting for Peter to react.

“So,” said James, if a bit haltingly, “Will you do it?”

_ Fuck _ , thought Peter. “Of course,” he said instead. He smiled weakly.  “Anything for you.”

James clapped him on the back with less enthusiasm than usual. His face was overcome with relief, and Lily was smiling at Peter. “Thank you,” she mouthed, as James sighed.

_ Fuck fuck fuck _ , thought Peter. He let Lily embrace him. She clasped one of his hands.

James was rubbing the back of his neck. “Really, thanks, Pete. We… don’t know what we would’ve done if you hadn’t agreed.”

“Hey,” said Peter, “It’s okay.” He tried to smile, and gently patted Lily’s hand. Lily’s smile wobbled, and a few tears leaked out of her eyes. Lily was soon leaning into him, crying freely. He gently patted her back, looking at James in a panic. James chuckled, but looked to be on the verge of tears himself.

Peter was soon swept into a hug, courtesy of James. He felt his shoulder grow damp.

_ Fuck _ , Peter thought desperately. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minerva goes to collect Harry. Summer, 1991. 
> 
> Different perspective of a fic that's currently in progress. Also, I hate small talk.

Minerva McGonagall brushed off her muggle clothes after apparating into the small, pristine community. The light breeze was sweet and the sun shone between clouds. She patted her hair and began walking briskly to one of the houses - Number Four. Its garden was just as pristine as the others, its white paint just as shiny. Its small lawn (just as small as all the other lawns) was a respectable length, and the little tree near the road was properly trimmed.

All in all, Number Four offered nothing but the unremarkable similarity to the other houses around it. Number Four had not changed in the ten-odd years it had been when she first laid eyes on it, and that _was_ a bit worrying.

Three shallow brick steps led to the door, and she knocked on it thrice, in a no-nonsense way. She had started to raise her hand to knock again when the door opened and a woman with tawny hair and a thin face answered the door. Her eyes flew over Minerva’s clothes lightning-quick; she then gave what she perhaps thought to be a very polite smile, but what looked more like a repressed grimace.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Preview of said fic that has yet to be named:
> 
> Her mouth twitched, and her bright eyes, shining through oval glasses, caught his. He blinked, and she flashed him a smirk that was gone so quick he wasn’t sure if he imagined it or it actually happened. 
> 
> Aunt Petunia fumbled her words, saying he was at a friend’s house, that he was so arrogant, that he ruined pictures with her family, never did any work, no, never, awful child, just terrible, and all the while the woman’s eyes sparkled at him, and they shared a sort of inside joke, something they knew that Aunt Petunia didn’t. 
> 
> When Aunt Petunia finished her fibs, the woman pursed her lips and glared at her. Aunt Petunia wilted a bit under her gaze. She then looked to him with kindness on her face. 
> 
> “Good morning, Mister Potter,” the woman said, and Aunt Petunia spun around.
> 
> “You!”, Aunt Petunia started, her finger up to scold him, but the woman cleared her throat, and Aunt Petunia sank into herself. She straightened and crossed her arms, moving against the wall to sulk and glare at him, the woman, and the floor.
> 
> Title suggestions welcome.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rubeus Hagrid is escorted to Azkaban Prison, circa Dec/Jan 1992/1993.

You smile at the auror on duty - Hubert Briggs, Hufflepuff - and shift nervously, making the cuffs around your wrists clink. This close to the island, you can feel the pull, but you know it’ll be worse inside. Hubert turns, suddenly, and begins noisily preparing the boat, taking much longer than he should. The reason becomes apparent when the auror that Malfoy and Fudge dropped you off with, Sarah Jones in Ravenclaw if memory serves, taps your shoulder with a large piece of chocolate. She’s floating it up with her wand and pointedly looking away, a small smile on her face. You politely munch the floating chocolate.

“S’not right, what they’re doing to you,” Sarah says from your right, glancing up every so often to see if the chocolate is gone. Hubert stills in his preparations, then continues in a quieter manner.

“No, it’s not. But what can ye do?” he says, turning around. He smiles as warm as he can, something in his eyes softening as he conjures a handkerchief. He motions you close, and you bend down so he can wipe the chocolate from your mouth. 

Sarah taps you again, and she’s got wet eyes when you look at her. She wraps her arms around your middle as much as she can manage.

“S’not right,” she says again, choking up, gripping the front of your robes tightly. You hear a suspicious sniffle from Hubert behind you.

“Awe, don’ cry because of me now,” you say, trying to swallow your own tears. Hubert comes around to embrace you as well, casting a warming charm so your faces don’t become too chapped.

“There’re two smart boys figurin’ out the issue now, you’ll see,” you continue, “Harry an’ Ron’ll solve it, an’ everythin’ll be alright, don’ worry.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does anyone have the exact date? I don't have a CoS near me, so I've had to go by feel; the wiki says nothing. I'm torn between the winter hols and the spring hols, but I'm slowly feeling more April. Let me know.


End file.
